


i had rather hear my dog bark at a crow

by Anonymous



Category: Rigel Black Chronicles - murkybluematter
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, I gave up on worrying if this is good and in character and instead decided to just enjoy the ride, Inspired by The Rigel Black Chronicles, Loosely Inspired by Much Ado About Nothing, no beta we die like caerriet, this might be crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-22 02:01:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30031332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: and i pray thee now tell me, for which of my bad parts didst thou first fall in love with me?
Relationships: Arcturus Rigel "Archie" Black & Harriet Potter | Rigel Black, Caelum Lestrange/Harriet Potter | Rigel Black
Comments: 7
Kudos: 36
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to the Carriet shippers in the discord. I thought I might try my hand at joining you 🧡
> 
> I think this is set in the summer after TFF, but it diverges from canon in that the ruse wasn't revealed. Also, the masquerade ball... I don't have a good RBC reason for its existence; it's just there because it's in Much Ado About Nothing.

“These today, Mr. Tate,” Harry said as she put the ingredients on the counter, ignoring the jangle of the bell behind her. “To my school account.”

“Well, well, look who it is,” said a familiar voice, and Harry bid a smile onto her face before turning around.

“Why Caelum, it’s not as if we haven’t seen each other in this very shop before.” She widened her eyes at him. “Should I stay and make sure you have enough to cover your purchase this time?”

He sneered at her, and she winked before turning around to face Mr. Tate once again.

He pushed the ingredients back her way, and she packed them into her bag before stepping off to the side and watching Lestrange.

He didn’t glance her way, but it was obvious he was well aware of exactly where she was. It was better even than if he had just looked at her because this took effort, this meant she was at the forefront of his mind. ~~Why did that make her so happy?~~

It stayed like that—her watching him, him ignoring her—all the way up until he paid, after which, he sent a pointed glance her way.

Harry simple waved at him and turned to walk out of the apothecary.

Lestrange followed her out.

“Are you going to be at the ball?” He asked.

“Hoping I’ll save you a dance?”

“You should be so lucky,” he retorted but there was no venom behind it. There hadn’t been for awhile. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll be there.” A slow smile appeared across her lips. “Rigel will be there too. Maybe _you_ will be so lucky as to dance with him.”

He scowled. “Rest assured I can distinguish you from your cousin even if you’re both wearing masks. Dirty blood isn’t so easily hidden.”

The insult would hurt more if she weren’t both the Rigel he hated and the Harriet he was reluctantly becoming friends with. Four years masquerading as a pureblood without getting found out were quite the proof that he was wrong. It was a bit of a pity that if all went well he—along with the rest of the wizarding world—would never know.

Harry pushed that down, pushed it all down. Three more years. Just three more years. They had made it past the halfway point; to ruin it now for something as utterly foolish as pride would simply not do. She was Harriet Potter, a half-blood attending the American Institute of Magic, and that was all.

Ignoring all that, what did it say about Lestrange that he’d rather dance with her, someone with that so called dirty blood, than the pureblooded Black Heir?

“Then I won’t force you to endure the company of my dirty blood any longer,” she responded. “See you at the ball.” Without a backwards glance she set off towards the Leaky Cauldron to floo home.

* * *

When Lestrange came up to her at the ball, she couldn’t tell if he knew it was her or not. She, however, was well aware of his identity. ~~Why was that?~~

She unfortunately had to admit he made quite the striking figure in his dress robes. It wasn’t an unfamiliar one, but every time it gave her just a bit of pause. ~~It was always nice to admire him before he opened his mouth.~~

Harry, herself, was also in black robes, albeit ones that were fancier than her typical brewing robes, with a simple black mask to match.

Since all their parents were attending, she and Archie had elected to go as their respective selves. Hopefully what with it being a masquerade ball, they wouldn’t have to do much interaction like this with her classmates anyway.

They danced, _of course_ they danced. Did he know it was her? She supposed that didn’t matter. He had plausible deniability, and she wasn’t going to bring it up to him later. ~~Part of herpositively thrummed with the possibility that he _wanted_ to dance with her, even when he couldn’t throw vile her way.~~

After spinning back into his arms, she asked him, “spotted anyone you think you can identify yet?”

His eyes met hers, icy blue met muted green. _At least_ , she thought wryly, _if he noticed the contact lines in her eyes, there was an obvious explanation._ Masks and glasses didn’t exactly go together well.

“The Malfoy Heir over there,” he nodded across the hall behind her, and when she looked upon the next time he spun her, her veins ran cold.

Perhaps the ball had been a mistake. There his cousin was dancing with hers, looking like quite the couple of pureblood scions. It was possible, of course, that Draco didn’t know, but she couldn’t quash her worries enough to believe that.

She stumbled, and she was sure that if Lestrange weren’t pretending he didn’t know it was her, he would have mocked her for it.

Despite the lack of acknowledgement, she was still just as sure it was him. Maybe she was too aware of Lestrange’s presence. Because she wasn’t sure it was anything about his appearance that had initially tipped her off to his identity. Her eyes had simply been drawn to him and that was that. ~~Was it normal to immediately know a person like that?~~

Harry tried to focus on dancing once more, but it was hard. Within itself, Draco and Archie dancing wasn’t a cause for alarm, but she still couldn’t help but shudder and worry. She trusted Archie, but Draco… She couldn’t pretend things hadn’t changed between them within recent months, ~~since he had kissed her~~. Distrust though; it was too big a step. He didn’t deserve that, she decided. Despite all that had happened and her own personal feelings, she wasn’t about to rebuke him like that. Draco still was Rigel’s friend, despite the malingering, discomfiting crush. He hadn’t brought it up again, and she hadn’t told Archie, and she could live with all of that.

“I heard his cousin is a bit of a brat,” she said. She didn’t know why she said it. Perhaps to get back into that comforting state of being that was the verbal sparring that characterized most of their interactions.

Either way, she didn’t miss the quick yet beautiful smile that flashed across his face. So he absolutely knew.

“Oh?” His eyes shined behind his mask. “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of his company. You’re referring to the Lestrange Heir?”

“Yes, he of insults and potions and little else.” She smiled wider at him. “Of course, this is all just hearsay. I also have not met the man. Though I think that fact is to my own pleasure.”

And then the music swelled and came to an end. She thought she might have heard a sigh from Lestrange, but that was probably just ~~wishful thinking~~ some figment of her imagination.

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the ball off the dance floor, watching and silently contemplating.

It wasn’t until the next day when Archie, sprawled out on her bed, said, “So, Harry, anything you forgot to tell me?” that she found out just how irrevocably terrible the ball had gone for Rigel.

Archie was responsible but not to blame. Not telling him everything had come back to get her. She should have expected that, been better. She couldn’t exactly even blame Draco for it.

No, the only person who was to blame was herself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately there's a lack of Caelum content this chapter as I got unexpectedly sucked into this scene.

_“Anything you forgot to tell me?”_

Maybe there were other possibilities, but deep down Harry immediately knew it was about Draco. Sitting down on the bed beside Archie, she closed her eyes and let out a long exhale. “I guess yeah.”

When she opened her eyes again, Archie was staring at her. Not judging her, just watching.

“Oh, Archie,” she whispered and laid down on her side next to him. “I don’t know where to start.”

“That’s okay. Take your time.”

They were both quiet for several minutes while she tried to find the words.

“I guess he probably said something about it,” she said finally. “That he kissed me, you, Rigel.” She wrinkled her nose.

Archie nodded.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. That was… foolish on my part.”

She searched his eyes for something to give away how he felt about it. Did he feel betrayed? Did he think that she’d jeopardized the ruse just for some boy?

She hoped he knew her better than that, but with everything… to say the ruse hadn’t had an impact on their relationship with each other would be a lie. Even if they both knew everything, ~~not everything, that was why they were in this situation~~ it couldn’t go unchanged. There was probably no aspect of either of their lives that was unaffected by that decision they’d made when they were eleven.

“Do you regret this?” She knew they’d both said they wouldn’t, but the people, _children_ , they had been then couldn’t have imagined half the things that had happened to them since then.

“No,” Archie said. “I know we didn’t exactly know what we were getting into when we started it, but I don’t regret it.” He propped himself up on an elbow. “I hope you don’t either.”

Harry nodded and was quiet for several long moments. “Sometimes I think about what our lives might be like if we hadn’t done this, the way this has fundamentally changed us as people.” She let out a noise that was half laugh, half sigh. “But no, I don’t regret it either.”

Archie reached for her hand and squeezed it between the two of his. “Good.”

They were quiet for several more minutes until she sighed and spoke again.

“I still don’t know how I feel about it, Arch.” She hoped he knew she meant the kiss; she didn’t want to acknowledge or name it anymore than she had to. “It was just so…” _Complicated, unexpected, something that couldn’t possibly happen with the ruse._ “I wish it hadn’t happened.”

It was impossible to miss the way her cousin winced.

“Oh no.” She sat up and stared at him. “I guess it’s your turn to say what happened.”

“Yeah,” he exhaled. “So he referenced the kiss, and I had no idea what he was talking about, so I just went along with it. I figured leaving him on the dance floor would be suspicious, not to mention rude.”

Harry held her tongue and didn’t ask why he’d agreed to dance with Draco in the first place.

“And he was being… friendly. So I was, you know, friendly back. Tried to match his energy. If something _was_ happening between the two of you, I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Harry was sure her face bore a very obvious look of horror. Yeah, not telling him had been a terrible decision. Really, she should have expected this. What had she been thinking not telling him? That was a simple one: she hadn’t been. _Of course_ her desire to be free and not acknowledge the most discomforting topics had only trapped her more.

What were they supposed to do now?

“Right, yes, of course. That’s fine.” She forced her face into a mask of tranquility.

Archie had taken a bad situation and dealt with it as best he could with the little information he had. If that meant Draco now thought Rigel returned his feelings, that was a side effect she would have to deal with. Just another sacrifice made for the sake of the ruse. It wasn’t the worst situation. After all, the ruse _was_ still intact.

“Harry…” He squeezed her hand gently.

“Is that it?” She asked, staring at the wall and tracing the patterns and character of it with her eyes for the thousandth time.

“Pretty much.”

“Okay,” she whispered.She couldn’t change what was done or exactly go back on it, so as ~~miserable~~ complicated it could make the next three years, it was _fine_. ~~Draco couldn’t expect much from his potions obsessed friend.~~

~~Right?~~

As she thought about it, the worry bubbled up that with his empathy Draco might notice her resentment. Harry would have to work on getting rid of that. Fortunately she had most of the summer still left for that.

How had it ended up like this? Her, forced to pretend she was into Draco when it was one of the last things she wanted. Archie, forced not to act on his own feelings for Hermione.

What sort of people would they be after all this was over?

~~They should probably both see a Mind Healer.~~

“You should visit Hermione some time soon,” she murmured. It was a pity he couldn’t just go visit her at Maywell, but she knew Archie could never enter the Lower Alleys in the guise of her.

“Maybe.” He let go of her hand and opened his arms wide. “Come here.”

Gratefully, Harry shifted over and laid back down in his embrace. She shut her eyes as he enclosed her with a firm hug. Warmth and comfort washed over her. Hugs, she decided, were a magic of their own.

It made it difficult to worry about Draco and that whole situation, so instead her thoughts turned to the good aspects of the previous night. There was her dance with Lestrange and how ~~perfect~~ comforting it had been. No expectations, no acknowledgements, nothing but two people ~~with a deep understanding of each other~~ dancing at a masquerade ball.

In toto, it hadn’t been a bad night for Harriet Potter, but she hadn’t just been Harriet Potter for many years and wouldn’t for several more.

Harry and Archie stayed that way, just silently soaking up the sweet comfort of each other’s presence and letting the tension the both of them carried within themselves ease, until dinner.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry woke the next morning to the dawning realization that she had made a grave mistake.

Was it, she wondered, worse to try and potentially fail to date—and she couldn’t help but wince at the thought—Draco or to just reject him now? Could she say she was too busy? He knew how much she cared about potions even if he didn’t understand it. Surely that could work.

Indeed, the more she thought about dating Draco and what that would potentially entail, the sicker she felt.

Yesterday she’d been so resolute in her decision, and a mere less than twenty-four hours later she had the very genuine worry she would throw up thinking about it.

If this was how it would be… One day fine and the next sick with the thought. Well, she shouldn’t go through with it; that much was obvious.

When she found Archie and told him that much, he simply smiled sympathetically and nodded. Archie had done nothing to encourage her in this decision. In fact if she had actually brought up what she’d been planning, she was sure her cousin would have done his best to dissuade her.

“I’m glad you came to your senses,” he said softly.

Harry nodded. It’d been a foolish decision really, led by panic and impulse with no rational thought behind it. She just hoped that turning him down wouldn’t ruin their relationship. ~~It hadn’t the first time, right?~~

Maybe it would be better to just ignore what had happened altogether. It was the easier option, that was for sure, but ignoring the kiss was exactly how they had gotten in this situation.

No, she had to yank this out at the root before it could fester into something worse.

In the end she wrote Draco a letter. Polite, as befitting a pureblood scion, but friendly as her friend deserved.

In simple terms, she made sure to write out that she valued his friendship and didn’t want to change their dynamic. Also, she added, there was the matter of her betrothal to the Potter Heiress, something she had in fact forgotten up until she was sat in front of the parchment with ink dripping off her quill. She couldn’t in good faith pursue anything outside of her current betrothal.

It may have been an arrangement created to deal with the marriage law, but it did make a handy excuse.

Ignoring her anxiety, Harry sent the letter off and that was that taken care of. As many worries as her fifth year at Hogwarts would bring, Draco Malfoy’s romantic attentions would _not_ be one.

* * *

The day after she sent off the letter, as she prepared to brew in the lab, a sick worry fell over her. Draco was Professor Snape’s godson. Would he be mad at her for… all this? If Draco was heartbroken, would Snape end the apprenticeship?

He had said that he would cheer for Gryffindor before he let her ability atrophy, but still, Draco was his godson. Did family supersede potions prowess?

Surely, no. Snape was a rational man.

~~Right?~~

And yet it gripped her. And yet it wouldn’t let her go.

There were a myriad reasons the situation with Draco terrified her, but this one. This specific one related to the apprenticeship was worse than all the rest. All she was, all she had done, it all went back to potions. ~~Who would she be without potions?~~

For the briefest of moments she hated Archie for potentially endangering her apprenticeship. But that was completely irrational; this hadn’t been his fault. He had thought about it all thoroughly. Mithros, he was a much better person than her. As soon as the resentment was done, guilt washed over her, complete and heavy.

She sat down on a stool in the lab and sighed, long and loud. She probably shouldn’t brew like this.

Despite not brewing anything, she stayed down there for hours. Her lab, any lab really, was a comforting place. Potions didn’t expect anything from her. Potions didn’t have conditions. Which wasn’t to say that every relationship she had was conditional. She couldn’t say that when there was her family, but outside them… with all her lies, and despite their promises in the kitchens, she worried. ~~Was Caelum one of the few outside her family…? He hated Rigel, but for some reason she remained hopeful that their relationship would hardly change with the revelation.~~

* * *

The first time Harry saw Lestrange again following the gala was in Mr. Tate’s, which really shouldn’t have been a surprise to her. The bell rang out as she pushed the door open, and when she saw him standing in the aisle in front of her, she froze. She’d expected this without truly _expecting_ it.

Lestrange, thankfully, spoke to her just as rudely as he normally did. “Oh, would you look at that. It’s little miss halfblood. Come to beg for assistance from a real master?”

“I don’t know, Lestrange,” she said, wiping any trace of doubt from her face. “Do you see one around here?” She cocked a hip and raised an eyebrow.

“You think you’re so special, Potter.” He sneered. “With your fancy new brewing technique. It’s not that hard.”

“Glad to hear that,” she said in a chipper tone. If he thought telling her other people could master it would bring her mood down, he didn’t know her that well. ~~That thought bothered her.~~

“Are you still apprenticing under Master Snape?” He asked.

Harry grinned. “Yes, of course. We’re meant to meet up for a progress check up this Friday.”

The apprenticeship was slightly more complicated by the fact that if Snape was put in the same room with Archie as Rigel, he’d immediately know, but that didn’t mean the ruse had to collapse immediately.

Somehow they would make it through, even if Harry had to do double the work, maybe even triple since she had to keep coming up with various excuses and reasons that he couldn’t teach Harry and Rigel at the same time. It’d been so much easier the previous summer, with Archie in the Gap.

“You still haven’t taken your Mastery Exam?” She responded as she moved past him to look at abberra leaves.

“Don’t worry, I will soon.” He said.

“That’s sweet that you think I worry about you,” she said with a saccherine smile as she turned around to face him. “Do you worry about me?”

He glared. “It’s a figure of speech, half-blood. I should have known you were unfamiliar. It’s a wonder you can even carry a conversation.”

“And yet you always seek me out.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him and turned back around to grab some of the abberra leaves and sweep them into her basket. ~~His answering noise of frustration shot straight to the center of her chest. The attention he paid her always said more than his words.~~

“Excuse me,” she said, though she was tempted to trip him, as she moved past him. The autumn crocus extract caught her eye, and she frowned. She still hadn’t gotten to the bottom of why it had been so cheap when she purchased it. It was up a little since then, but still not the price she expected. _What was going on?_

 _“_ Hey, Lestrange,” she said, picking up a vial and turning to face him. “Do you know why the saffron prices have been so low recently?”

“I know you’re a peasant, but some of us don’t pay attention to prices.”

“Mhhmm.” She put the vial back on the shelf. “What about that time I had to pay for your potions ingredients?”

“You are misremembering things,” he muttered.

“Oh? I’m sure we could ask Mr. Tate about it.”

“No, that’s fine.”

She grinned at him. “Because you know I’m right.”

The war on his face was evident before he finally muttered, “yes.” It looked painful to admit, and that only made it that more glorious. A nineteen year old curmudgeon. ~~Her curmudgeon.~~

He flinched as she patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

His displeasure was clear, but he didn’t speak.

With another smile directed his way, she turned to look at the shelves once again. Her visits to the apothecary always doubled in length when he was there. Definitely because he was so irritating, and she couldn’t just leave his retorts with no comeback. ~~No other reason.~~


End file.
